Seduce The Camera, Not Me
by TheWickerBrick
Summary: Pippi doesn't look gift horses in the mouth- especially when she didn't ask for them. AU. KidxOC. And that's how it's done, baby.
1. Chapter 1

**I Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me.**

Title: I Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me

Pairing: KidOC. SoulMaka. Black*StarOC.

World: AU

Summary: "He's an insufferable nabob prat, that's what."/"She is an infuriating little parvenu with no capability for symmetry."/"I despise her; her and her idiotic camera."/"He can go die, for all I care."/"Goddamnit, woman, I love you!"

**.ooOoo.**

On the very last day before the yearly vacation, the Kaizen University of Fine Arts had effectively sealed its doom in the form of the very colourful and very creative damnations that a certain senior had called down upon its prestigious campus.

Like any normal person, she had been happy. Note; _had been._

Who wouldn't? It was her last day.

That was, until she found out that she couldn't officially leave unless she had completed this one particular shoot for that one particular supermodel.

And that, was where it all started.

**.ooOoo.**

Next to a very ornate fountain, surrounded by lighting equipment, various whatnots and air- mustn't forget air, now- a group of very shocked (and morbidly fascinated) gossiping people- mostly just the lighting crew, supervisors and make-up and set artists- were watching two very pissed, very attractive young people go from arguing about the produced visual results to insulting each other to the limits of their pride at the top of their voices, both about a nanometre away from actually resorting to hurting (the girl by punching her ready-made fist into the 'faggy pretty-boy bastard's' face and the guy by suing her for physical and verbal assault and **winning**, dammit) the other and essentially make them _**pay.**_

**.ooOoo.**

"What the _**hell**_ is wrong with you?!"

"_**Me?!**_ Look who's fucking _**talking**_, faggy _**dipshit**_! Stop talking 'bout yourself!"

"Can you not even _**manage **_to fucking take just _**one**_ _**goddamned symmetrical picture?!**_ Hell, why they call _**you**_ a _**genius**_ is honestly _**fucking beyond me.**_"

"Well, _**excuse me**_, but _**I**_ am going to do _**my job, properly**_- and I'll be _**damned**_ if I stray from my style just to _**suck u**_p and kiss your _**bitchy supermodel ass!"**_

Off at the sidelines, two people, both with jaws dropped, just stood and stared at the fiery little (no, not really. She was actually a good height- it's just that Kid was pretty tall) camera girl who was currently engaged in a shouting match with top supermodel, Death the Kid.

God.

"Hey, Nygus. Is this really happening?"

"…You're kidding me, right? Hell, Liz. Just look at that."

Probably the only people who could__do that to the famed 21 year-old and _**not**_ receive any long-lasting damage to their physical body would have to be Maka Albarn, his equally famous fellow model and childhood friend and Patricia Thompson, Liz's trigger-happy sister.

And that was only because Maka could beat him up. And her crazy dad would be out for his blood. And because an angry Patty scared anyone shitless.

As stunned as Elizabeth was, even she couldn't suppress a righteous chuckle when Kid had commented rather rudely on whether her height reflected on her mental capacities and the girl had retorted that, perhaps, the reason why his ego was so inflated was that he was compensating for something.

A subtle, indirect blow to his manhood.

Liz gave an appreciative whistle. Christ, that kid had guts.

Now, if only the rapidly reddening, rapidly approaching vice-principal would somehow disappear into thin air and let the rampage continue, her life would be perfect.

Ah, wishful thinking.

**.ooOoo.**

"**Miss Stefanov**! _**What**_ do you think you're _**doing**_?!"

Said person barely repressed a disgusted snort when the rotund vice-principal pig began to flatter and attempt to appease the 'poor, offended dear' (poor, offended _**dear?!**_ Ha!) that was Death 'I'm-hot-smart-rich-and-famous-so-you-bow-down-to-me-and-obey-my-every-whim-bitch' the Kid (What kinda fucky, screwed up name whazzat anyway?!) and freaking _**flipping her goddam curls.**_ She doesn't even **have** proper curls! Just thinning fake brown ones arranged in an assumedly 'charming but elegant' style, pinned back by a pink polka-dotted bow to cover the bald spot on the top of her head.

"- I shall personally make sure that she receives the utmost discipline she deserves."

And just like that, as soon as Ms. Paulette Potbelly- Pippi was totally sure J.K Rowling had based Umbridge off her- was done fawning over 'my dear Sir Death,' the simpering smile was wiped off, replaced by an animalistic expression that resembled more of a snarling toad.

_Cunt_.

Pippi jerked back with a start, eyes wide.

Dear God.

What _**happened**_**?!**

Pippi couldn't imagine for the life of her when she was last this _**vicious.**_ Really, when was the last time she had used the 'c' word? Four, five years ago?! She was pretty sure it was still way back in high school- freshman year! Her pretty grey eyes shifted to the taller….way taller….man currently sitting in his customized deck-chair for a little touch-up.

Savagely crumpling a piece of paper that had magically gotten into her hand, only one thought ran through her head.

_I hope he gets cancer. Or at least a sunburn. A third-degree sunburn._

Unfortunately though, she was snapped out of her reverie by a clawed hand fiercely clutching her exposed forearm, successfully and painfully puncturing the smooth, tan skin as the owner dragged her off to some shady, secluded corner of the area.

Once they had reached the place, Pippi was already visually wincing; hissing in pain as the evil toad-woman tightened her grip even further, swinging the girl round to face her.

Large, black-kohl-outlined eyes bulged in fury as they bore into her person and for once, instead of the annoyance and irritation that she usually felt around the horrid woman, Pippi felt anger. Red, overwhelming waves of anger and pain as the claws dug deeper into her flesh.

Taking no notice, the vice-principal began to vigorously shake her, face twisted into a perfect mask of rage.

"You disrespectful little brat! How dare you! You might think you're better than everyone here just because you won that scholarship but don't you dare think for a second that your position overrules mine! Now, you are going to go back there and apologize and complete the whole shoot on your best behaviour! Do you hear me?!"

With a last shake and a deliberate tightening of the hand, Ms. Paulette (Ms. Yes. Really, who would want to marry someone like _**that?**_) let go of her forearm and strode away to suck up even more to the man.

"Fucking cunt," Pippi muttered, examining her affected forearm. Her frown deepened when she saw the bruises surrounding the bleeding, crescent-shaped gouges. She needed something to wrap it.

And going back to the set was out of the question.

Doing a quick visual skim of her outfit, she came up with this:-

Her current outfit was a white, spaghetti-strapped taffeta dress. Reaching her knees, it opened up into an upside-down v at the front, the point beginning above mid-thigh and flaring out in wide, crisp ruffles till the knees. Faded grey mini jean shorts were worn under to avoid inevitable flashing. Black sneakers. No socks. A large black leather belt cinched around her waist and the thin black chiffon sash she had dangling off her hips in a loose knot.

Untying the sash, she made quick work of wrapping the painful-as-hell area, one end in between the grip of her teeth as she tied it up, picking up her camera and striding over to the set. It was totally unfair, how people of a higher society were treated like gods. They didn't have the right to look down on them, the hoi polloi.

Which was why she had left.

Pippi's hand tightened on her beloved device, the skin stretching white on her knuckles as a dark look overcame her comely features.

As soon as it came, it was gone- replaced by a cheery grin.

With considerably more determination than before to break down the slightly older male model, she flounced off, long, sooty curls fluttering and bouncing around her.

**.ooOoo.**

"Umm, Mr. Death?"

At the sound of the disgustingly familiar voice, Kid immediately spun around, ringed aureate eyes narrowing in suspicion as they met large stormy grey ones.

"What?" replied Kid, still wary. He didn't trust that sweet smile. Not a bit.

_**Not one fucking bit.**_

"I really am sorry for my behaviour earlier, I hope you'll forgive me?" she dimpled cutely, charmingly.

Yeah, right.

Her face might say she was truly apologetic and all, but her eyes-

Her eyes promised revenge.

Fine. Kid glared, before shifting to his usual gentlemanly, equally charming smile. Two could play at that game.

"Of course, Miss Stefanov. It was no problem. I was at fault as well."

A mad glint flashed in both captivating pairs of eyes.

The she-devil sighed in relief. Damn, she was good.

"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed, one hand placed lightly on her- very nice- chest.

Hey, he was a guy. Could you really blame him?

"I thought you'd be just _furious_," said the girl, a wicked little smirk making its way onto her light pink mouth.

Kid returned it with his equally immoral one before gesturing with one ringed hand to the set in general.

"Of course not, Miss," he replied. "Well then, shall we?"

Yet another sweet smile made its way on her lips.

"Of course."

After a brief exchange of see you's and such, Pippi- as he found out her name was- went on ahead to set up her equipment.

He, however, didn't miss that little look on her face.

Oh, this was _**war.**_

.**ooOoo**.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Again went the click of the mouse as her supervisor scrolled through the pictures, randomly selecting and opening jpegs and all.

At each double-click, Pippi watched in complacent satisfaction as her superior's eyebrows rose higher and higher and that cunt VP's face grow even more and more puce as the extraordinary quality of her pictures made itself known.

Really, didn't they know how hard it was, trying to suppress a smirk?

They should really hurry up.

Thank God the ponce was way over on the other side of the room. He couldn't see this.

Ever.

Or at least, not until she was somewhere very far away.

Finally, her supervisor looked up.

"Well," he began. "You've definitely kept your word, Phoebe. This," he then gestured rather grandly at the computer screen. "Is fantastic. Great job."

Still suppressing the smirk she so desperately wanted to shoot at the VP, she simply gave a very demure little smile and said, "Thank you, sir," sweetly.

Very sweetly.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then, my dear pupil," Pippi watched as her superior, Mr. White, began to slightly tear up. He was always such an emotional man, thought Pippi fondly.

Giving a small laugh, Pippi just shook on her camera bag, jean jacket slung over her uninjured forearm. "'Course not, sir," she replied, grinning as always. "It's only until we meet again."

"Ah, yes," he fanned himself with a hand, reminiscent of Narumi from Alice Academy. "I forget. Forgive me, dear. And so, farewell, until we meet again!"

"Yes, sir!"

Once she was finally out of the buildings and waiting for the train, thus a safe distance away from the model, she finally released her smirk.

Digging around in her pouch, she extracted her camera and quickly flipped through the images.

If it was even possible, her smirk grew even wider.

For each of her pictures were asymmetrical.

As part of her little revenge scheme, she had tipped the camera just a teensy bit to the left.

Just a little bit, mind you.

But it was enough.

Save for one, because even she wasn't cruel enough to do that to the ponce.

Because, she concluded just as she was boarding. Heartless, she was not.

Nevertheless, Pippi basked in the glow of her smug, smirky self-satisfaction all the way home.

**.ooOoo.**

**So, there concludes the first chapter of the PINKELEPHANT series, I Said Seduce The Camera, Not Me.**

**How was it? Good? Bad? Disgustingly dreadful? Drop in a review, flames and criticism (any kind— go on, I'm not picky.) are welcomed, although I'll probably be using the former for roasting my marshmallows.**

**+I know, I know. Kid's out of character— but then again, this is AU. He will have his symmetry-obsessed fits (really, I can't live without those. They're hilarious) but the character I wanted to portray him as was the cool, HitsugayaToushirou-reminiscent character, only with less screaming and a cooler temper.**

**+Basically, the rich dude.**

**+My incertitude on whether I actually have enough conscience and antiProcastination crack means that much guidance (received humbly and gratefully by this poor, undeserving soul) and inspiration and gentle— or rough, take your pick— reminders will be needed from you, my dear readers. **

**+Thus, review please! It really is the least any reader can do for the authors who toil away on their laptops, painstakingly crafting imaginative and eloquent stories for us to read. **

**+That is, with the exception of Tara Gilesbie what'shername.**

**+Review! I'm kinda a whore when it comes to them. But I won't force you… much. Imma nice whore. **

**+How the hell do you do divider lines?**


	2. Chapter 2

**PoI Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me.**

Title: I Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me

Pairing: KidOC. SoulMaka. Black*StarOC.

World: AU

Summary: "He's an insufferable nabob prat, that's what."/"She is an infuriating little parvenu with no capability for symmetry."/"I despise her and her idiotic camera."/"He can go die, for all I care."/"Goddamnit, woman, I love you!"

**.ooOoo.**

Sometime during the course of her journey back home on the metro, (did she mention she lived in Paris? Probably not. She was crap at French. It was a wonder how she survived, actually) Phoebe 'Pippi' Stefanov had an epiphany.

Suddenly sitting up from her sprawled position on one of the benches (eliciting her more than a few glares and is-she-_**okay?! **_looks from standing passengers,) eyes wide and hair a mess, Pippi proclaimed her revelation to the world.

"I'm free!"

Standing up (and randomly clutching a little boy's hand ecstatically to her heart,) she proclaimed again.

"I'm free! Finally freaking free! No more schooling! No more nagging teachers!"

Upon conveniently spying the next train schedule, the deliriously happy girl grabbed her satchel and jacket and danced her way out of the robotic train doors and onto the station, which, unconventionally, uncannily and almost with a hint of _destineh!_, in dear Nova's words, the train had stopped at just as Pippi was about to waltz her exit out of the train, singing 'no more homework, no more homework!" to herself in a slightly crazy way.

It wasn't until well past eight that she got home.

**.ooOoo.**

Effectively kicking open her apartment door, the happy Pippi stormed in, dumping her shopping bags on the couch and heading towards her kitchen for a glass of strawberry yogurt drink, humming about long, steamy baths with her ultra-cool, RayBan-wearing yellow plastic duck.

Only to stop right in her tracks.

Slowly, very slowly, her head turned, an imaginary beeping, broken arrow shooting from her gaze to the manila envelope on her coffee table. After a while, she came up with—

"Hmm? Whazzis?" and proceeded to walk over to the couch, plop down, and with as much care as a bulldog who had sighted (and smelled) a piece of lovely filet mignon, ripped off the top of the folder and shook out the contents.

What fell on the glass of the cocktail table were two pieces of paper, and a small black box with a small button on it.

In curiosity, Pippi picked up the box and after finding nothing particularly interesting about it, placed it beside her, on the sofa.

"Dear Ms. Phoenix Stefano," Pippi read aloud, frowning at the name. "All preparations have been made and you are scheduled to appear at the airport in fifteen minutes, where you will be flown over to our headquarters in London for your official meeting with your employer and Death World Modelling Agency's C.E.O. Simply press the button on the black box and the driver will be there to escort you. Considering lodgings and possessions, all living conditions have been taken care of. A luxury condominium has been provided for your use as long as you are in the position of Franken Stein's apprentice, furnished as necessary. Your current belongings will be flown over as well, two days prior to your official instating of your position on Wednesday. Thank you for your cooperation.

"Sincerely, Medusa Gorgon."

Medusa Gorgon? Seriously?

Pippi snorted. Who the hell names their child Medusa Gorgon? Pippi looked down at the little buttoned box beside her, "Right. Fat chance I'm ever going to press…that…button…"

Oh, _**shit.**_

Right there, lodged between her thigh and the leather of the couch, was the pressed button box.

Wide-eyed, pupils dilated and mouth open in horrified realization, Phoebe (not Phoenix) Stefanov (not Stefano,) was effectively escorted to the sleek black limousine waiting outside her house (much to the delight of the gossipy old birds in the apartments surrounding hers,) wherein it spent next to no time speeding off to the jet where she was to endure five of the most frustrating hours of her life.

And realize she had left her camera at home.

Oh, _**shit.**_

(Again.)

**.ooOoo.**

"_**FOR THE LAST TIME, MY NAME IS **__**PHOEBE**__**! **__**PHOEBE STEFANOV**__**!"**_

The leader of the squadron of men and women escorting her replied, "Of course, Ms. Stefano."

Pippi held back the urge to bash the guy's head in the wall.

And then dunk his head in the nearest toilet she could find and press 'flush.'

Ahh, the good ol' swirly.

God, she could not wait to get to that office, go apeshit and _**go home.**_

Her camera…

God, she could _**cry.**_

**.ooOoo.**

It was safe to say that Pippi left the office with absolutely nothing accomplished and even more frustrated than before.

But, aside from the occasional swear word or two, it was pretty mild. (Her _ass_.)

Except for the fact that she was stuck, there, for eight months as apprentice to the Creep of all Creeps.

It was supposed to be only six, except for the C.E.O's son, Sir Ponce himself and his irrational need for symmetry.

God, why couldn't it have been zero?!

I mean, look at the number— 0— nothing gets more symmetrical than that!

For God's sake, it's fucking _**round.**_

At any rate, many a person passed the building to find a pretty LatinAsian girl writing the most vulgar and demeaning words she knew on the front entrance walls, as well as decorating each panel of the revolving doors with very rude little phrases using a bagful of mini-cans of temporary hair dye and spray.

(She wasn't stupid. She knew she would eventually end up cleaning it. No sense in making things any worse for her.)

Right after the meeting, she had emptied her wallet (kept in her brassiere for less chance of being pick-pocketed) of all its contents and proceeded to the nearest convenience store, emerging triumphant as she outbought the store's entire supply of spray-canned, hair-colouring products.

She was just in the middle of creating an elegant 'Screw you, fucking dick' in cursive, pink and violet.

Huh.

Well, at any rate, the conversation with the company's CEO, Mr. Death (who, she was mighty peeved to discover, was the father of Sir Symmetrical Ponce _**and**_ living proof that _yes_, _**Death the Kid was actually a real name**_,) his right-hand man (and Pervert of the Year) Spirit and her supposed employer, Professor Stein, went a little something like this:-

**.ooOoo.**

"But I'm not Phoenix Stefano!"

"Oh, really now?" scoffed Spirit. "Then what _**is**_ your name?"

"It's Pi- **Phoebe**! _**Phoebe Stefanov**_! It's a '**be,'** not a '**nix'**_**and**_ there's a **'v!'"**

"Oh well," shrugged Mr. Death. "Same thing!"

"It is _**not!**_" fumed Pippi, very close to actually _stomping_ her foot (and hoping that she brought the building down along with it, mercifully and effectively ridding the world of the most unreasonable men on the planet.)

"Oh, pipe down— is it really that bad? Are you honestly that depraved that you would go back to your 'no-life' rather than accept-" Stein waved a hand full of lit cigarette (gracing Pippi's nostrils with flicks of ash and smoke) to indicate the agency. "-all this?"

"Yes!" Pippi shot back. "And I do have a life, thankyouverymuch! You suck, Mr. Stein, and so do you!" she promulgated loudly, pointing an imperious finger at the redhead.

"And by the way," Pippi threw over her shoulder as she stomped (she finally gave in) to the door. "Your son-" she told Death. "-is a _**ponce**_!"

Slam.

"And an _**asymmetrical**_ one too!"

**.ooOoo.**

"Well, this certainly is fascinating."

A very fascinated and impressed head corporate executive watched the security camera's feed through his Mac, accompanied by his trusty man Friday and the famed lensman.

A low whistle sounded in through the room courtesy of the redhead.

"Yes, no?" agreed a transfixed Shinigami (he much preferred his Japanese name to its English counterpart.) "You'd think after all that, she'd run out of insults."

After a particularly original malediction showed up on the screen insulting one of the triad of men (leaning considerably more in Spirit's direction,) a sputtering was heard, as well as deep chuckle and gales of fullblown laughter.

"Oh!" Shinigami slapped his thigh, all the while convulsing in the hilarity and accurateness of the statement of the girl's neon orange insulting phrase, accompanied by a mini-caricature of the man (by George, it actually looked like Spirit!) "You really can't argue! Ha!"

Beside the caricature, a fluorescent green arrow pointed to it, a print describing exactly who and what the caricature was.

It said 'prinky, shtuping manwhore.'

**.ooOoo.**

**Okay, I know. It's like 500 words shorter. I'm sorry, guys, I kinda hit a roadblock these days. **

**+I'm officially partially deaf and my lens power has gone up to 800. **

**+I'm supposed to prepare for three songs to sing in church on Christmas and I'm already exhausted.**

**+Oh, and I have to get a bodyguard or helper or something.**

**+Godammit, he at least better be hot! **

**+Oh well, at least I've still got you guys, I suppose.**

**+A little critique would be appreciated.**

**+Might some ideas be sent in?**

**+Yeah, see you guys in a bit!**

**+Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me.**

Title: I Said Seduce the Camera, Not Me

Pairing: KidOC. SoulMaka. Black*StarOC.

World: AU

Summary: "He's an insufferable nabob prat, that's what."/"She is an infuriating little parvenu with no capability for symmetry."/"I despise her; her and her idiotic camera."/"He can go die, for all I care."/"Goddamnit, woman, I love you!"

**.ooOoo.**

It was five in the bloody morning that Pippi found herself in a dimly lit but incredibly elegant, swanky and surprisingly 24/7 London café, typing furiously on her sleek black Dell Notebook (honestly, Mac was pretty damn confusing. Not to mention ridiculously expensive,) taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi and typing furiously to her best friend (via Facebook) about the unfairness of this world, especially to her.

Written in the section aft this sentence is the very interesting (and totally PG— well, not at first, but definitely later on) conversation between Phoebe 'Pippi' Stefanov (plus family!) and Evangeline Rosetti, henceforth known as LoveTheMango and EvaEyeDomination respectively.

If you didn't understand, Pippi has the fruity name.

**The Highly Informative (in the rhetorical sense) Status and Notification Spamming of 'Pippi-Slash-Family-And-Eva-And-Friends' via Facebook**

**EvaEyeDomination** is wondering why she uses her nonsensical, delusional-best-friend-christened-nickname as her Facebook name, as opposed to her perfectly good one.

_about an hour ago *Like* Comment_

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**LoveTheMango **Because it's perfectly awesome. Admit it.

**Draco Stefanov** Ha! Eva, really, you don't need to pity her and succumb to Pippi's fruitiness. Very bad pun intended.

**Phoebus Apollo Stefanov** Yes, Eva dear. My elder is absolutely correct. I know right?

**LoveTheMango **Oh, shut up. Fruitiness does run in the family, you know.

**EvaEyeDomination** Oh, yes. I've noticed, best friend.

**Ra-Seth Stefanov** I'm afraid she's right, dear brothers (and little sister.) Haven't you ever noticed the oddity of our names?

**Loki Stefanov** I was under the impression that Mum was just a History buff.

**LoveTheMango **Ah. That explains why you're okay with everything. But really, haven't you ever wondered why we're all named after mythical gods? (With the exception of Draco, of course— Mum's also a major Potterhead.) And not very flattering ones to boot.

**EvaEyeDomination** They're not unflattering at all, actually. I think they're adorable.

**LoveTheMango **You're too sweet sometimes, darling. Isn't that right, Russet dear?

**Ra-Seth Stefanov** I distinctly remember telling to stop calling me that. It's not my fault I drew the short straw. Stop making fun of my name.

**Draco Stefanov **Honestly, little brother, it could be worse. Mum could have called you Silvanus. (18 people like this)

**Phoebus Apollo Stefanov** Sylvie. Ha!

**EvaEyeDomination** There's no 'y.'

**Phoebus Apollo Stefanov **Silvia, then.

**Ra-Seth Stefanov **Oi! Don't give them any ideas!

**LoveTheMango **That would have been pretty freaking awesome, coz, you know, Russet does look very androgynous.

**EvaEyeDomination **Yeah, but isn't your mother's name Silvia?

**LoveTheMango** Mum's spelled with a 'y.' Sylvia.

**EvaEyeDomination** Oh. Well, that makes sense. Anyway, Phoebus, why do you keep using your middle name? Come to think of it, I've never really known your full names. Or ages. Or middle names. OHMYGOSHISOTOTALLYDON'TKNOWYOURMIDDLENAMESANDI'VEL IKEKNOWNYOUGUYSFOREVERANDSTUFF.

**LoveTheMango** …Is it really that important? We don't know yours either. But, because I love you and because you've always been there for me (unlike certain *coughAllcough* family members,) I shall graciously answer your questions. You know Phoebus's, Russet doesn't count because his name's already made up of two, mine is Artemis (barfff,) Loki's is Tyrr and Draco is Draco Luscious— er, Lucius Stefanov.

**Phoebus Apollo Stefanov** This is why I use my middle name. I refuse to acknowledge you as my relative, let alone admit to being your i-freaking-dentical twin.

**Ra-Seth Stefanov** W-What?

**Phoebus Apollo Stefanov **OH MY GOD. (28 people like this)

**Draco Stefanov** O.O I don't normally do these kind of things, but I'm kinda… er…

**Draco Stefanov **…..I suppose totally violated and disturbed should do the trick…..

**Loki Stefanov** And This Is Why You're My Lil' Sis! ^3^ Score, sweetie! (52 people like this)

**Ra-Seth Stefanov** LOKI!

**Loki Stefanov **What? I'm living up to my namesake, so there.

**LoveTheMango **chu!~

**EvaEyeDomination **So, your middle name's 'Luscious?'

**Draco Stefanov **NO!

**Isley Warner** I AGREE WITH THE LUSCIOUS LUCIUS THING! The man is delicious, although I think Draco (both the movie one and the Pippi one) are scrumptiouser! Ah, the perks of having a gay friend, eh, Pippi? (92 people like this)

**LoveTheMango **:)

**Ra-Seth Stefanov** …Is scrumptiouser even a word?

**Isley Warner** Is now! xD

**.ooOoo.**

Okay, so I lied. I swear, the next one's the important one. No, really. Honest.

(This was posted around 2.45 am, an hour or two after Pippi's defilation of the building, prior to the above, which was put up at a time between and am.)

(It is safe to say that our protagonist got very little sleep.)

**.ooOoo.**

**LoveTheMango **thinks that this world is screwed up. Especially now.

_2 hours ago *Like* Comment_

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**EvaEyeDomination **What happened?

**Isley Warner**__Yeah, what crawled up your ass (again) and died? :) (27 people like this)

**LoveTheMango** Shut up, Isley. Just because you were my roommate once does not give you express permission to ask me what crawled up my ass and died.

**LoveTheMango **I got hired.

**LoveTheMango** As in, I have a job.

**Isley Warner** What the hell's so wrong about that?!

**LoveTheMango **That's what I thought too. Until I found out who my employer was.

**LoveTheMango **And who the SUBJECT was.

**EvaEyeDomination** ?

**LoveTheMango **I'm now an amateur photographer under Franken Stein, in lieu of Phoenix Stefano, of who the three irritating men refused to believe I wasn't. Anyway, it's bad because my ultimate manager happens to be the father of the absolutely infuriating supermodel, Death the Kid.

**Isley Warner** And what the hell is wrong with that?! The guy's hot! And, he's a total gentleman! I've had a crush on him since— oh, I don't know? At any rate, trust a male's opinion, dearie— you ain't never gonna find a man as sexy as that. Except maybe Luscious. Teehee.

**LoveTheMango **About that, I might have accidentally on purpose turned him into my PNG (persona non grata, not the picture format, so shut it with the puns) numero uno.

**EvaEyeDomination** Oh, Pippi. What did you do?!

**Isley Warner** 3 puns, ha!

**LoveTheMango **Okay, do you still remember that little you-don't-graduate-until-you-do-this-shoot-thing from the school? Let's just say you do. Anyway, I started taking pictures of the model (PONCE) and he got all pissy because of his stupid OCD said that the pictures weren't symmetrical. OF COURSE THEY WEREN'T SYMMETRICAL! IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED STUPID IF THEY WERE! So he got pissy and I got even more pissy and we had this all shouting in your face thing. Oh, and I might have also purposely tilted everything to the left.

**EvaEyeDomination** Oh, Pippi. For the 197th time. (54 people like this)

**EvaEyeDomination** And don't you dare say anything on it. I KNOW. I counted.

**LoveTheMango** …..

**Isley Warner** So what'cha gonna do 'bout it?

**Danube Siobhan** Well, you could always sock him in the face, right?

**Isley Warner** WHEN THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE?!

**LoveTheMango **I'd love to, only his nose is worth, like, a million dollars. At least.

**LoveTheMango **I don't have that kind of money.

**LoveTheMango **At least, not yet.

**Danube Siobhan** Wow. RICH BITCH MUCH?!

**LoveTheMango** Ya think?

**EvaEyeDomination** Well, I'm assuming he looks down on you now, correct?

**LoveTheMango** That's kinda harsh…

**EvaEyeDomination** I'm right anyway. Why don't you prove him wrong then? Show him you're not immature and irresponsibly childish— even though you are— as he now undoubtedly thinks. Work hard, gain approval from everyone else and eventually, he will be forced to grudgingly acknowledge you as a capable individual (which you actually ARE, despite how you act,) in which you will have certainly, hands down, unquestionably WON.

**Danube Siobhan** Wow, that was pretty deep, Eva. Although a nice punch would have done the trick. Maybe in the gut, since his nose is apparently worth more than my mom's house.

**LoveTheMango** ikr? And your mum's probably got the swankiest house I've ever seen.

**EvaEyeDomination** Guys….. Is violence really necessary? Why can't you all settle this like normal, CIVILIZED people?

**LoveTheMango** ….Because we're not exactly normal? And I'm a nonconformist. Speaking of which, aren't you too? I mean, just look at all your creations! It's so oddball, yet you manage to make it all elegant! HOW DO YOU DO THAT?!

**EvaEyeDomination** Stop trying to change the subject! For God's sake, Pippi, save me the effort of hauling your sorry ass out of hell and use WORDS.

**Isley Warner** Eva, darling, I've been telling her that for years and she hasn't once listened. It's a shame, isn't it? What with her fine conduct of the English language and all.

**Danube Siobhan** Nah, I prefer fists.

**Isley Warner** That being said, you don't count. You're a barbarian.

**Danube Siobhan** Eh. I know.

**LoveTheMango** So, you're giving me permission to go apeshit, only with words?

**EvaEyeDomination** YES!

**Isley Warner** YES!

**LoveTheMango** Is that all?

**EvaEyeDomination** Pretty much, yeah.

**LoveTheMango** Kay. Bye. I'm going to eat breakfast now.

**LoveTheMango** Peace out.

**.ooOoo.**

As she typed out her last comment with a flourish, Pippi checked the time on her screen, scowling in annoyance when it read 5.3o.

Eh, whatever.

Pippi dug into her brassiere again, pulling out her wallet only to find it empty. After digging into the other random little flaps at the side, she discovered something.

Her credit card.

Oh, thank God.

Immediately, Pippi set about to the task of flagging down a waiter and ordering a hot, extra large piece of piping hot apple crumble with a scoop of vanilla at the side, crème brulée, apple strudel, a toasted ciabatta with mozzarella cheese and a filling of toasted tomatoes, basil and shredded roasted honey-garlic chicken and a tall glass of hot milk tea with one sugar and three ice cubes on top.

Ah, and a slice each of chocolate and apple pie drizzled over with copious amounts of cream.

Pippi cared not for the calorie count of all the hot, considerably sweet and carbohydratey food that she was ordering; she was already planning for the vicious running spree she was going to partake in tomorrow morning.

But enough of that.

Today's today and tomorrow's tomorrow.

For now, she was just going to eat.

And then maybe go get a crane (although maybe a tank would do,) and demolish that horrendous building.

Ah, sweet revenge.

**.ooOoo.**

**DO THEY KNOW IT'S CHRISTMAS TIME AT ALLL! Christmas! It's totally over but I, have returned with the spoils. Ferrero Rocher, Cadbury, Toblerone, Bounty, Rafaello Vanilla-Coconut Truffles, Gingerbread, Fruitcake, CHRISTMAS PUDDIN'S! OH, OH! AND BUTTERFINGERS! AND CRUNCHIE! AND KINDER BUENO! AND PASTILLAS! OHMYGOD, PASTILLAS!**

**I HAVE A WHOLE CARTON OF STRAWBERRY MILK!**

**HAHAHAHAH, ALL MINE!**

**+Chuu, review, and tell me what you think!**

**+Oh, well. At least my helper's pretty damn fine. Haha, it's my best friend. xD**

**+I'm sorry it's all Facebook…. *gloom* But, CHOCOLATE!**

**+I get the feeling this is pretty filler-ish… I kinda only did this because I wanted to introduce (or at least inform you of the existence) of Pippi's circle of family and friends. **

**+Review!**


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